Fine Print
by Aindel S. Druida
Summary: Roy x Riza. Lieutenant Hawkeye is being transferred. How will Mustang deal with this? Post series and movie.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist. In any sense. It depresses me. I need a job…**

**SPOILERS! You have officially been warned. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

Roy Mustang walked into the military office where he worked and was promptly hit in the face with a notepad. Before it could even hit the floor, the notepad burst into flames, leaving only a small pile of ashes at Mustang's feet. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them. Havoc, Fuery, and Breda stood, frozen, in the middle of the room. On Fuery's face was a look that could only be described as a mix of utter despair and complete terror.

"S-s-sir!" Fuery's eyes welled up with tears as the three officers moved to salute Mustang, who was still standing in the doorway.

"What exactly was that?" Mustang asked, staring them down.

"M-m-my … M-m-my n-notebook!"

"Mhm. And why did it end up in my face?"

None of them really wanted to tell Mustang that Havoc and Breda had been having a bit of fun at Fuery's expense by stealing his notebook and tossing it between them. It wasn't that Mustang would do anything to them, really. The game just seemed so much more childish when they were asked to explain their actions.

"Sir?" said a voice from behind Mustang. "Excuse me. You're blocking the door."

Mustang shifted to the right to allow First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye through the door, arms filled with paperwork. He groaned when he saw the size of the pile. "Do I have to do all of that?"

"Yes," came the short reply. Hawkeye walked to Mustang's desk in front of the large window and set the stack of papers down. Mustang groaned again, and Hawkeye turned around to look at him. "And some of these need to be sent out to East Headquarters tonight, so you can't put it off."

"Can't you put those ones off to one side so I know they're the important ones?"

"No."

"But why not? Then I would know that they had to be done first."

"Because," Hawkeye replied with a knowing look, "you'd spend all day slowly going through those few and the rest of the work wouldn't get done."

Mustang cursed to himself. She knew him far too well. "But I'm a cripple! How can you expect me to do all that work?" he shouted, gesturing wildly at the large black eye patch that covered the upper half of the left-hand side of his face.

By this time, the other three officers had slunk to their desks. They had endured this particular routine for the past month, and they all knew from years of experience to stay out of the way when Mustang didn't want to do work (they also knew to stay out of the office altogether when said disdain for work was because of an impending date). Hawkeye gave no response to Mustang's whining, but turned and sat at her own desk. She pulled the first sheet off her paperwork pile, which was considerably smaller than his. Reluctantly, Mustang moved toward his own desk and sat heavily in his chair, picking up the pen on the desk and twirling it idly between his gloved fingers.

Mustang didn't hate his job in the least, despite his attitude towards paperwork. He had missed his position and his team terribly when he had taken the solitary position in the North. But he had needed the time away to cope and recuperate. He had killed a man. Granted, he had killed a lot of people before (that, unfortunately, is the business of the military and a fact of war), and he hated doing it every time, but this time he had killed the Fuhrer, the most powerful man in the nation. He had been aiming at the position himself in order to right the wrongs of the country (and to force the female members of the military to wear miniskirts), but that dream had been dashed to right another wrong: the Homonculi. He had worked for years towards that dream, and in one night it was gone, along with the use of his left eye, and the FullMetal Alchemist.

Thinking of Edward Elric and his brother, Alphonse, brought Mustang to a more recent memory, the reason he could now sit and daydream at that desk. Ed had returned a month ago from beyond the gate, bringing in his wake an army of monstrous machinations from another world. Even in the seclusion of his icy post, Mustang had felt the gate opening inside himself. He had rushed to Central, his instincts telling him that he would be needed. He had arrived at Headquarters to see the military, his own former subordinates among them, struggling against the foreign invaders. They had followed his orders without question, as though two years had not passed and he was still their commanding officer. In fact, they had been glad to serve under him again, though he didn't quite understand the reason (the egotistical part of his mind said it was because he was an exemplary leader). Even Hawkeye, who had been closest to him after Maes Hughes, who put up with every stunt he pulled, watching his back at every move, and who had gone two years without any real personal communication with him, had welcomed him back rather than resenting the loss of her freedom from him (his ego kicked in again here). In the end, he had aided the Elric brothers in keeping the nation safe, and had seen them both cross the gate, leaving him to destroy it on this side. For "loyalty to the nation and bravery in the face of unknown danger" he had been reinstated to the familiar position of Colonel and given command over his former subordinates.

"Colonel?" Hawkeye's voice pulled Mustang from his extended mental flashback.

"Yes, Lietenant Hawkeye?"

"_Paperwork!_"

He heaved an overly dramatic sigh, reached forward for the first paper, and began signing the papers with his terribly illegible signature without bothering to read the documents. Why create more work for himself?

**A/N:** My nerdiness knows no bounds! Actually, it does. It draws the line at anything by Gene Whatshisface. You know, the Star Trek and Andromeda guy. ANYWAY, after adamantly denying the existence of anime for many, many years, I have been suckered into it by my roommate and our friend. I then continued to fall downward in the rabbit hole, until I hit the bottom. Any who have gotten to the point of actually reading this author's note have just witnessed my journey through the door and into the Beyond that is the anime world. I'm a geek. There are no other words for it (which is true, because I'm nowhere near Otaku level, but nor am I the person who watches Inuyasha irregularly and says they're an anime fan).

This chapter kinda sucked…. Rats, I hate exposition! It's just so DULL, but you have to do it, otherwise no one knows what's going on, and then everyone's confused, which is not a good thing, trust me. I'm almost permanently confused. You don't want to be like me. I promise the next chapter will contain something remotely resembling a story. W00t! If you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them. I've got most of the story planned out in my head, but tidbits are always welcome. They help me get started. I suffer constant writer's block (as you can see from the number of finished fics on my profile: TWO. And they were oneshots, so I'm not even sure that counts…).

I'm trying to keep this as true to the series as I can (animeverse. I'm just starting to get my hands on the manga now). No promises for zero OOCness, though. This is fan fiction. You all know we don't do zero OOC here. If it were like that, this would be canon, and we would all be making money from it.

If you read it and liked it, a virtual peanut butter brownie for you!

If you read it and didn't like it, you still get a peanut butter brownie for reading! Yours just doesn't have chocolate on top.

If you read and reviewed, two chocolate-drizzled peanut butter brownies!

Also, if you spot a typo, feel free to point it out to me. The keyboard isn't exactly my friend (except the backspace button, who kinda keeps the peace between us).

Purple buttons rock!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Two weeks later, Roy was having another bad morning. He had been woken up far too early by a dog somewhere outside. Grumbling, eye still half closed, he had stumbled to the window. He hadn't been able to see the dog, but had succeeded in burning his cornea with the sudden burst of sunlight. After that less than pleasant experience, Roy was too awake to go back to sleep, so he decided to make a cup of coffee instead. Opening the cupboard in the small kitchen of his apartment, he quickly discovered two things: first, that he was out of coffee, and second, that cupboard doors can be very painful when they unexpectedly make contact with one's forehead.

Roy left his apartment an hour and a half later with a craving for coffee and the beginnings of a truly horrible headache. He would be early for work this morning. It was probably the third time in his life this had ever occurred. At this point, though, he didn't really care. All he knew was that he wanted coffee, and the office had some.

"Good morning," came the chipper call and wave from the young woman in the doorway of the jewellery shop ahead on the right. Roy had seen her a few times before, and usually stopped to flirt a bit. He had missed flirting with women while he was up North, and the woman was certainly pretty.

"'Morning," he replied somewhat less enthusiastically.

"You're out early this morning. Lots of work today?" she inquired, smiling and tossing back her shoulder-length red-brown hair.

"Something like that." He was not in the mood for small talk this morning. It was hard for him to converse when his mind (the part that wasn't reminding him of the pain in his head) was focused solely on a large mug of dark, bitter heaven. Somehow, later he could not for the life of him remember how, he managed to politely detach himself from the woman's company. He wasn't sure, but he thought that he might also have employed Havoc's name and number in the course of the detachment process.

Roy shuffled into the office a full half hour before he was even supposed to start work. He made his way up to the office, passing the Communications and Intelligence offices, and raising a hand to Denny Brosh and Maria Ross. He stepped into this familiar room that held his and his subordinates' desks and found himself facing Riza Hawkeye's gun.

"Sorry, Colonel!" she said, quickly putting the gun back in its holster and controlling the shocked look on her face. To Roy's chagrin, she hadn't managed to drop a single paper from the pile tucked under her other arm. Hawkeye placed the pile on his desk, turned, and saluted her superior officer. "Good morning, Sir."

"Is there coffee?" was his only response.

"Yes, Sir. I'll go get some."

Roy raised a hand. "No, I'll go. Do you want some?"

"Please. Just a bit of milk in it, if you don't mind."

He nodded and walked back out the door. As he got closer to the small room that held his salvation, he realized that Hawkeye had needed to tell him how she took her coffee. It shocked him to discover that while she knew him almost scarily well, he knew almost nothing about her. For reasons he couldn't explain, this thought bothered him.

A few minutes later, Roy returned to the office with a steaming mug in each hand. He placed the one in his right hand on Hawkeye's desk and continued toward his own. She looked up and thanked him with a small smile as she reached for the mug to blow lightly on the hot coffee. Her smile only increased the bothered part of Roy's mind, causing him to take a huge gulp of scalding hot, black coffee instead of the sip he had intended. He quickly swallowed and began to cough violently.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Hawkeye's concerned voice said.

"Yeah. Coffee's hot," Roy managed between coughs.

"Yes," she remarked, trying to suppress a smile, "drinks made by boiling water have a tendency to be hot."

The room was silent after Roy had finished his coughing fit. He sat at his desk, alternately staring into and drinking from his mug. She occasionally sipped her own drink as she filled out the papers sitting on her desk.

"Lieutenant?"

She looked up, pen still poised over the paper. "Yes, Sir?"

He hesitated for a minute. "Why did you join the military?"

"I beg you pardon, Sir?" Her brow was creased as she stared at him.

He tore his eyes from the coffee cup to meet hers. "Why did you join the military?" he repeated.

Hawkeye set her pen down and sighed. She was silent for a while, and he began to think that she wasn't going to answer. "I went for walks a lot along the stream near my house when I was little. One time, when I reached the place where the stream met the road, I saw a man with his dog. The dog had picked up a stick because it wanted to play, but all the man did was take the stick from the dog's mouth and started beating her with it. He brought it down on the dog's body again and again, ignoring the agonized noises she was making. I wanted so badly to help that dog, to protect it from that hideous man, but I was a small child and he was enormous. I thought that if I joined the military I could protect the innocent so that people wouldn't end up in the same position as that poor animal."

"Hm," Roy replied, nodding and moving his eyes back to his coffee cup.

"Why?" she asked after realizing that he hadn't planned on saying anything further.

"No reason. I just don't know much about you, that's all."

"Ah. Come to think of it, you don't know much about any of us here, do you?"

"Not really." Strangely, not knowing about the others didn't bother him half as much as not knowing the woman sitting at the next desk. He told himself it was a combination of guilt for not paying attention to the person who had helped him while he was healing and lack of sleep, but somewhere in his mind he knew that wasn't quite right.

When he looked up at her again, she was already back to her paperwork. The stack she had placed on his desk was still untouched. After all, he still had ten minutes before he was even supposed to arrive.

"Hawkeye, where does all that paperwork you do come from? You don't slack off like I do."

"Most of it's yours, Sir. I do your paperwork for most of the day, since mine doesn't take very long and I know you'll never get all of yours done if you don't have help," she replied, not looking anywhere but the line at the bottom of the page she was currently signing.

Her reply did not help his mood. Roy simply at his desk, staring into his coffee and letting the bothered feeling in his mind and gut run rampant, his headache from earlier making it all the worse.

**A/N**: I've decided to make it my goal to hit Roy on the head with something at the beginning of every chapter. Gives you something to look forward to, doesn't it?

Yay update! Sorry it took so long. I wanted to watch the movie again before I got into this, but the subtitles on the copy I have are crap (and sometimes non-existent), so I had to wait until the Anime Club meet to see it. Which was good, because then I got to make sure I understood what the characters were saying. Plus I kinda lost the paper I had with all the names and stuff of the characters. Not that I really needed it for this chapter, mind you, but I didn't know that I wouldn't. I don't actually write these things, you see. The plot bunnies do. I'm just the pen-holding vessel thingy. How I could lose that paper is beyond me. I mean, it's bright pink. But I'm one of those talented people who will lose anything that can be lost.

It'll probably be about another week before I update again. It's exam time, and I really should study. Not to mention I have rehearsals this weekend for a performance on Monday (which I so don't want to do. I'm a designer for crying out loud! Not an actor!), and a design portfolio to finish for an interview next Friday that will decide the rest of my career. Eek!

Love you all muchly, and even more so if you review! I know you people are out there reading this and not reviewing! I can see you on the hit count!

I promise that this time I will not offer you virtual desserts of a questionable nature. It's chocolate chip cookies this week! Last week's desserts go to xTheDarkAngelx, momiji-k, flOofymikO, and YourViolentStalker (you can pass it off to someone who will like it).

Aindel S. Druida


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Sunday was Roy's favourite day of the week. This was because he could sleep in and slack off without consequences. There was no paperwork and no Riza Hawkeye with a gun. He had been awake since early this morning, but chose to simply stay in bed and relax. He finally dragged himself into the shower sometime around lunch.

Today, he decided, he would go out for a cup of coffee instead of just making one at home. There was a new coffee shop open a few blocks away, and Roy was sure he'd seen a pretty woman working inside. Opting for black slacks and a white shirt, the only clothes he had that were currently clean, he placed his gloves in his pocket and walked outside.

The streets were crowded on both sides, so Roy was jostled quite a bit when he left his apartment building. Everyone seemed to be out enjoying the beautiful weather. He had to admit, he liked the change. The last few days had been rainy, which depressed him. He couldn't perform alchemy in the rain, which caused Hawkeye to occasionally label him as useless. More than anything, Roy hated being useless. Useless people couldn't make a difference in the world.

Deep in his thoughts, his body walking toward the coffee shop on autopilot, Roy didn't notice the elderly woman step out of the shop in front of him.

"Oof!" he exclaimed as his body hit hers. She teetered for a moment and leaned heavily on her walking stick to steady herself. "Are you alright, Ma'am? I'm sorry, I didn't – "

"Watch where you're going, young man!" Roy's apology was interrupted as the old woman raised her walking stick and cracked him across the head with it.

"Ow! I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry! I didn't see – "

"You ought to have seen me! Young people these days!" she continued to rant as she also continued to hit him. "You could have broken my bones! You could have killed me!"

"Ah! Easy, Grandma! Take it easy!" Roy could see that his pleas for mercy and forgiveness were lost on the old woman, and put all his strength into running away as quickly as possible. He dodged in and out of the crowds cluttering the way until he made it around the corner and stopped for a breath.

Conveniently, he had run in the direction of the coffee shop. From his current place, he could smell the sweet aroma of caffeinated drinks and baked goods. He took a few more deep breaths to recover himself from his escape and continued his walk toward the shop.

As he reached the shop's patio area, a familiar bark caught his attention. A few tables to his left, he could see as he turned his head in the direction of the sound, Black Hayate was tied to the back of one of the white chairs. He ran toward Roy as far as the leash would allow him. The dog's movements had no effect, however, on the blonde woman sitting in the chair. She remained as she was, deeply immersed in whatever was on the table in front of her. Roy smirked and walked toward his lieutenant's table.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Hawkeye still didn't look up from her book. "Go ahead. I don't mind."

He sat, and a waiter came over to take his order. He ordered a coffee and turnover for himself and asked the man to refresh Hawkeye's drink. The watier gave Roy a slightly frightened look and hurried away to retrieve the food. When he was gone, Roy turned his attention back to the woman sitting at the table with him. "You didn't even look up when I came over. What if I was dangerous?"

"I've trained Black Hayate not to bark at every moving thing. He only barks at people he knows, a habit I just can't seem to get him out of."

"I see."

"Therefore, I figured it was someone from work, since Black Hayate - - What happened to you?" She had finally looked up at him, and what she saw shocked her.

"What do you mean?" Roy turned to look at his reflection in the shop window, and suddenly he realized why the waiter had been terrified of him. His encounter with the old woman on the street had left him looking quite different from when he'd left home. His hair was an absolute mess, there was a long red mark along the right side of his face and on his forehead, and his shirt was wet with sweat patches from running. The eye patch didn't exactly help things, but at least that he was used to.

"What happened?" she repeated.

"Don't ask. Please," replied a disgruntled Roy.

"Are you sure you're alright? It looks like you were hit pretty hard. Could we get some ice for his head, please?" she asked of the waiter, who had returned with their orders.

"Of course, Miss," he replied as he hurried back into the shop.

"Ice isn't necessary, Lieutenant. I'm fine."

"I don't believe you, Sir, and Riza is fine."

"Huh?"

"You called me 'lieutenant.' My name works just fine when we're off duty. If I'm only ever known by my rank or last name, it implies that I have no life outside the military."

"And do you?" he asked, teasing.

"I'd like to think that I have other things, Sir."

Roy laughed. "So you're allowed to pretend to have a life, but I'm not?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You called me 'sir.' If being called by rank implies having no life for you, then the same applies to me. It's Roy."

She smiled at him and brought her drink to her lips. "Roy, then. Thank you for the refill, by the way."

He waved a hand at her in dismissal. "Thanks for the ice." He half-smirked, half-grimaced as he placed the bundle the waiter had brought for him on the tender red spot on his face.

"So are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Not a chance."

"I'm supposed to protect you! How can I do that if I don't know what I'm protecting you from?"

"You don't need to protect me from this. I'm just not going to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll laugh, and I'll lose my reputation. Now drop the subject, Riza, and drink your coffee or I won't do any paperwork for a month."

Riza wasn't too put-off by his refusal to notice that he had used her first name like she had requested, nor was Roy to absorbed in his wounds to notice the strange feeling he got from using it.

**A/N:** And so it continues, with no clear plot in sight! Hurray for me! But that was kinda fluffy, and fluff is fun…

Sorry it took so long to update. I had exams, and then my friend came up to visit me, and then I had my grandparents' 50th anniversary, and then I was sick. Plus I had to watch a lot of anime this week (gee, what a pity). You do NOT want to know how scary my hard drive was. But I'll tell you anyway. I was at 1.43 GB of free space left. NOT COOL. What really sucks is that I can't actually get rid of most of this stuff because it's my summer stash, since I can't download at home and I have a pretty good bandwidth limit here at school. Of course, this is my last week to get stuff, since I'll be done school on Tuesday, and NOTHING is downloading. I only need ONE BLOODY EPISODE of Fushigi Yuugi to finish off the series, and I CAN'T GET IT! Not to mention I only need five more episodes of Full Moon wo Sagashite (so totally love that series), and they're all in the 30's, so I'm stuck at episode 29 and can't watch any more.

ANYWAY, on to somewhat relevant things. It took me a while to come up with something to hit Roy with this time around. So I just decided to bean him with an old woman. Huh….Not sure why… And yes, Roy likes turnovers. I say so. Apple turnovers. And sometimes cherry, but only when he's in the right mood for one.

Eventually, there will be a plot, I promise. There has to be! It's in the bloody summary! But I've decided that it's just not good enough if I don't establish the beginning of some sort of relationship between the two of them first. Thus begins the saga of almost-mindless fluff. It'll only last a little bit, though, before we get back on track. But this is a romance, so I seriously doubt you guys mind. Right?

Back to not-so-relevant things: I finally own the first two FMA manga! My first manga ever! Yay! My friends are proud of me. I also bought the first Fruits Basket, but that's not _nearly_ as important. Still good, but lacks something. Like Roy. Definitely lacks Roy. I can't wait to read more of them! Please don't tell me what happens!

Thank you's to:

YourViolentStalker- Thank you for not being a part of the hit-count club. And don't question the chocolate obsession. Just accept it. It's not going anywhere, trust me.

xTheDarkAngelx – Thanks! Christmas indeed! And Easter and birthdays all rolled into one!

Kabashka – Thanks! Glad you like it!

Sable Sword – Good suggestion. Will try to work it in later.

fullmetal philosopher – uh….huh…..

Brickwall847 – Don't question the baked goods. Just accept it. They're not going anywhere, trust me. Glad you like it, though!

Feel free to e-mail me anytime! I'm going to need things to keep me occupied now that school's done…

Review! It's virtual animal crackers this time (at the behest of those who don't seem to like my baked goods or chocolate. Odd people :P)!

Aindel S. Druida


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

If Sunday hadn't already been Roy's favourite day of the week, it certainly would have been now. Over the past month, it had become routine to meet Riza for coffee at the small shop where they had met up the day Roy had been beaten by the old lady. Sometimes they would talk, their subjects ranging from the weather to their pasts to the future, everything but their work. Roy found himself thinking of Riza more and more as a person rather than as his lieutenant, though he has always thought of her as more of a person than the rest of the people in the military office.

Today, though, they sat in comfortable silence, as they had done other times. They were seated in the far corner of the patio, the corner that happened to be getting the most sun. Roy glanced at Riza, wondering how she could stand it. The heat was absolutely horrid and the light must have been glaring madly off the white page of the new book she was reading. When he asked her as much, she smiled wryly and looked up at him, placing two fingers on the page to mark her place.

"It's not bothering me in the least, Roy."

"How is that possible? I'm the Flame Alchemist, so I'm used to heat, and it's bothering me!"

"Because," she replied, "I'm not the one who was crazy enough to wear a long-sleeved black shirt in the middle of summer."

He looked down at himself and noticed that she was right. He had been so worried about being late to meet her that he hadn't given a second thought to his clothing. Though the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone, leaving his neck and a small bit of his chest exposed, it really made no difference if the colour kept attracting the sunlight. He noticed that Riza had been much more practical in her dress, opting to wear a light blue shirt and tan pants. "But it's cotton," he whined in response. "Isn't cotton supposed to breathe or something?"

"Our uniforms are cotton-based."

He shuddered, reminded of the unbearable heat one felt while wearing full military uniform in the summer. "I see your point."

Riza turned back to her book, her eyes moving back and forth across the page. As she turned the page with her left hand, her right hand reached for her mint iced tea. She wiped her hand on the napkin beside her after replacing the glass, getting rid of the water on her palm and fingers from the sweating glass. Roy, having nothing better to do, idly watched her do this, noticing how her pinky finger stuck out slightly when she drank and how he knew she had reached an interesting part in her book because she was barely blinking, despite the harsh sunlight. Riza bit her lip, drawing his wandering attention to her mouth. For a moment he wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips, whether or not they would taste like the mint iced tea she seemed to love so much. After that moment he wondered where that thought had come from. Eye still on her, Roy searched for an answer, though some part of him already knew what it was. He thought of her as a person, that much he knew, but he hadn't realized until now that sometime during their growing friendship he had begun to think of Riza as a woman. He thought of her in the same manner as he had thought of his girlfriends in the past, though perhaps a bit deeper, since they had something of a past together and common ground. After all, she had sworn once that she would protect him until her own death, and had kept that promise ever since. The idea that he thought of this woman as just that, a woman, both intrigued and frightened him. He would have to be careful, though; he would be treading dangerous ground if he decided to act.

"Did you want something?" Riza's voice broke his train of thought, startling him nearly out of his chair.

"Sorry, what?"

"You were staring at me. Did you want something?"

"The sun and the heat are affecting my head," he replied.

"You could always join Black Hayate under the table. I'm sure it's cooler there."

"That's extremely undignified!"

"So is a whining, supposedly grown-up military official, but that doesn't seem to have stopped you yet."

"Riza!" was all he could say in response, since she was absolutely right. Instead of trying to justify himself, which he knew was next to impossible, Roy stood up. "Come on. Let's go."

"Go where?" she asked, placing the small brown piece of paper she used as a bookmark between the pages and closing her book.

"To find some shade so we can get out of this blasted heat. A park, maybe." To completely convince her, he added, "Black Hayate would probably enjoy it more, anyway."

Riza untied the plain cloth leash from the back of her chair and wound it once around the palm and back of her right hand as Roy dug in his wallet for the change to pay for their drinks, since it was his turn to pay. When he had placed enough for the drinks and tip on the hot metal table, he saw that Riza was already standing on the other side of the short white patio fence and waiting for him, the dog sitting patiently at her heels. He moved to join them, and they set off toward the nearest park.

Within ten minutes of walking, Roy spotted the park and groaned. It seemed as though the entire population of the city had the same brilliant idea as he did, and had decided to all use the same park. They had to walk for a while longer once they actually got inside the park, but Roy didn't mind as much here. The large, leafy trees cast long shadows on the ground and sent a cool breeze across his face, which was a particular relief because his sweat had been making his eye patch rather uncomfortable. The breeze brought with it the smells of grass, freshly turned earth, and flowers that Roy couldn't name. They finally found a vacant spot up against a gigantic oak tree at the top of a small rise in the ground. Riza let Black Hayate off his leash, giving him strict orders not to wander away or bother any people. Roy knew that the pup would listen to her, and was amazed, as he always was, at how thoroughly she had trained him, particularly since he wasn't sure Black Hayate understood the dangers of being near Riza when she was within ten feet of any sort of firearms. Once she was sure that the dog had understood her, Riza moved to the tree where Roy had already settled himself down, sat gracefully beside him with her legs tucked to her left and reopened her book.

"What are you reading, anyway?" She quickly marked her place again and handed him the small hardbound book. "Alchemic Theory and Practice? Planning on becoming an alchemist, Riza?"

"Of course not. I just don't like being ignorant on the subject, especially when I work so closely with a State Alchemist. I wouldn't give up my guns so easily."

"You know, though," he said with a smirk, "there are some fights in which guns are useless."

"And there are some alchemists," she replied instantly, matching his smirk, which she had become very good at in the past month, "who are useless in the rain, aren't there?"

Once again, he had no response for her quick wit, and so he settled for merely scowling and turning away to rest his head back on the tree. He closed his eye and enjoyed the break from the monstrous heat. He heard her return to her book, which he had handed back to her after reading the title. For a while Roy sat like that, legs bent, head tilted back, hearing the occasional page turning in Riza's book and Black Hayate barking happily at whatever small creatures happened to cross his path. Then, he heard Riza shift uncomfortably, settle for a moment, and then shift again. After she had done this a few times, Roy decided to say something about it, though he knew that he might be forced to regret it sometime in the future.

"If you'd like, you can use my legs." He heard the sudden halt in her restless movements and turned his head so he could look at her with his good eye. He noticed that she was blushing faintly and biting her lip again, but quickly got herself under control.

"Are you sure you wouldn't mind?

He straightened his legs out to prove his point. "Of course not. I wouldn't have offered if it was going to bother me."

She smiled at him, making him smile back genuinely rather than smirking as he usually did. "Thank you," she said as she shifted a little bit so that she could lay on the grass. Hesitantly, she laid her head on his thigh, just above his knee, and glanced at him. He smiled again before closing his right eye and replacing his head on the tree. The weight of her head on his leg brought him back to his thoughts from the coffee shop. He decided that he needed to sort out exactly what Riza Hawkeye meant to him. She had supported him through every stupid thing he had ever done, she kept him on track when he began to stray, and she was fiercely loyal to him. He enjoyed her company more than anyone else's he could think of, and she had a biting wit that matched, and sometimes bested his own. She was simple, and because of that she was beautiful. He had never known her to worry about her appearance, nor had he ever seen the necessity. She had a natural radiance that years of preparation and products couldn't match. She meant more to him, he realized, than anyone ever had. He refused to think the word 'love,' he wasn't ready to dive that deep yet, but he knew that he felt more deeply about Riza Hawkeye than all of his previous girlfriends combined.

Black Hayate brought Roy back to the real world from his mind with a bark, and he noticed that he hadn't heard a page turn in quite a while. He opened his eye and looked down to see Riza's eyes closed, her open book resting face-down on her stomach. Her lips were parted slightly as she slowly breathed in and out as she slept. He gave in to temptation, shifting slowly and carefully so as not to move his left leg. He leaned over and hesitated only for a moment before brushing his lips against hers so lightly that they barely even touched. Riza shifted, but didn't wake, which made Roy glad. He didn't want to deal with her feelings quite yet. Settling back against the tree for the third time, he moved his right hand to that his fingertips gently touched Riza's head as he drifted off to sleep, a small smile at the corner of his lips.

**A/N:** Well, that was unoriginal. I'm not terribly happy with it. I'll probably rewrite it once the fic is done. Except that last part. I like that last part. It satisfies the fluff addict within me (or that _is_ me, considering there is only a small part of me that _isn't_ a fluff addict, but whatever). It just doesn't flow, you know? I think it's the first couple paragraphs that need it the most. Sorry it took so long, but I had an exam that I had to (not) study for, and then I had to pack up and move out of residence, and then I had to unpack and find places for everything once I got back home. That last part took the longest. I only finished unpacking last night, and as of today I've been home for a week. Not to mention that the claustrophobia-inducing factor of my room (I've got STUFF. You wouldn't believe what I've got squirreled away in here) also seems to have done a number on my creative juices. I had no idea what was going to happen in this chapter. No plans whatsoever. I just kinda picked up the pen, and this is what came out the end of it (incidentally, this is the longest chapter so far, running a full page longer than the previous ones). I couldn't hit Roy with anything in this one, so I just decided to make him extremely uncomfortable. The policy has now been changed from "Roy will be hit on the head at the beginning of every chapter" to "Roy will have some form of extreme misfortune at the beginning of every chapter." I know Roy seemed to have a lot of realizations very quickly, but it's not exactly that unrealistic. Haven't you ever had one of those days where you realize something, just one tiny thing, and then that spawns five billion other observations from it? Maybe it's just me… whatever.

Up next: Plot! Gasp Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you? But yes, there will actually be plot in the next chapter, not to mention the return of a wonderful device known as OTHER CHARACTERS. The latter seems to have been sorely lacking in the last three chapters.

In typical Aindel style, I will now commence with the not-so-relevant things going on over on this end of the server, AKA the part that many of you probably skip (because who really cares about what's going on with me, anyway?). So, we had interviews a couple weeks ago for streaming (see pointless rant in Chapter 2), and the results were posted last Tuesday after our big exam. I GOT IN! I'm going to be a real, bona fide, honest-to-goodness costume designer! I'm so happy! It really sucks, though, because my one friend (and the reason I am able to eat real food during the school year) didn't get in at all, and our res hobo (our friend who kipped out at our place at least once a week) is on the waiting list. But we'll still have most of our classes together, along with our other friend who (heaven help her) wanted to be an actor, so it's not the end of the world.

I'm now moved back home, where I will be for the next four months, and looking for employment. This is not going so well, but that's what happens when you live in a very small city with almost no real places that would hire students, except maybe the Tillsonburg tobacco fields (yeah, the place from the extremely horrible Stompin' Tom Connors song, if any of you know it), but those are still a bit of a drive for me, and I lack transportation. So I'm bummed about that.

Thanks to my reviewers:

Loyalsoul – Thanks!

Shadow Dreamer 27 – Thanks a lot! I apologize for the lack of originality here.

Cles – Yeah, old lady. I had to. It was just too perfect.

Kmi-san – Thank you!

UltimateProcrastinator – I actually considered dumping cold water on his head at one point. The idea is still swimming (no pun intended) around in my head. If I haven't read your story yet, I'll probably be doing it very soon. So seriously cannot keep track of what she's read

YourViolentStalker – Thank you! It means a lot to me that you didn't join the hit-count club (which seems to be freakishly well-populated).

KTRose – Thanks. And I now officially love your grandmother, violence or no. Though violence is always fun when it comes in old packages!

flOofymikO – Apple turnovers are indeed awesome, and I so don't understand the whole not-loving-chocolate thing either.

Brickwall847 – You can have an apple turnover if you stick with me to the end of this thing. And thank you for reviewing, even though you were sick and your head was spinning. I hope you're better now!

Kabashka – Very true. Which is why I opted for the discomfort policy. It allows for humor, but without total redundancy. Was contemplating external HD, but then forgot about it when I was out shopping. I'm good for that.

Sull89 – I know what you mean about the detail thing. My teachers were on my case about that all through high school (no, that's a lie… we had zero creative writing opportunity in Grades 11 and 12. Stupid essays). For some reason, though, I just can't seem to get it right. I think that's the reason I get stuck every time I try to write a novel. And you're right about the last sentence in the last chapter. I'm going to fix it when the fic is done, before I rewrite this chapter.

Sable Sword – The plot is coming, I promise. I just had to get up to it. Believe me, it would have seemed silly to go right into it without this stuff first. You'll understand what I mean when we get there.

Okay, so that was a really long author's note. Hopefully all you sane readers skipped it completely, and those of you who are insane had a bit of fun.

Review, and receive virtual Pocky of your own flavour choosing!

Aindel S. Druida

PS. A thank-you to all of you in the hit-count club, too. The mere fact that people have clicked on my story over 1300 times makes me a very happy critter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Thursday evening found Roy in the middle of a poker game at the office. Fuery, Breda, Havoc, and Falman had pulled their chairs from their desks and positioned them around Roy's desk. Normally, this would have been a highly risky move, since Havoc, Breda, and Falman were supposed to be working, but Hawkeye was scheduled for off-base work and wouldn't be back for another hour or so. Fuery was stuck at the office until she returned since he had volunteered to watch Hayate for her, and Roy had decided he had nothing better to do that night. He knew, though, that she would try to suggest that he should have done some of the paperwork that had been moved to the floor to make room for the cards and mugs.

"I fold," Fuery mumbled as he threw down his cards for the umpteenth time. He stood up and stretched before picking up his mug. "Anyone want a refill while I'm up?"

"No, thanks," replied Breda, grimacing at his own mug. "I'm barely through this one. This stuff is nasty!"

"The colonel and I have told you again and again to switch to coffee, so it's your own fault for not listening to us," Havoc retorted, handing his mug to Fuery. "Speaking of coffee, there should still be some in the pot. Could you top this off for me?"

When everyone else had answered, Fuery took the two mugs and headed down the hall. The four remaining players laid down their cards glanced around the table.

"Ha! Diamond straight! Take that!" yelled Havoc, jumping up and pointing a finger at Roy, who had won practically every round all night.

"Congratulations," Roy said, absolutely deadpan. "Now maybe you can start to pay back some of the money you owe me from the last game?"

Havoc's shoulders sagged. "Aw, come on, Colonel! I really need this money!"

"You also really need to pay me back." This argument would go nowhere, and Roy knew it. In the end, Havoc would keep the money and Roy would be left unpaid. As it was, Havoc not only owed him for the last poker game they'd played, but had never given Roy his share for the Warehouse 13 incident more than two years ago. He was about to bring this point up when something hit him between the eyes. "Second Lieutenant Havoc, did you just throw a card at me?"

"Er … yes."

Roy lifted his right hand from where it had been resting on his desk and set his fingers together, ready to snap. There was a dangerous glint in his right eye as he glared at Havoc. "I suggest that you get back to work." He paused, but no one in the room so much as breathed. "_Now!_"

With a startled cry, Havoc ran out of the office, leaving only the smell of his cigarette and the empty chair across from Roy's in his wake. Breda followed him in much the same manner a moment later when Fuery returned with the refilled mugs and Black Hayate, who had been running about the central green. Looking confused, Fuery set the mugs down on Roy's desk, careful not to spill any of the steaming liquids. "What's going on?"

Falman smiled. "Second Lieutenant Havoc's losing at life once again, and Second Lieutenant Breda noticed your friend there." He nodded his head towards Black Hayate, who stood with his forepaws on Roy's left leg while the colonel scratched under the dog's chin. He stood up and stretched, and then moved his, Havoc's, and Breda's chairs back to their respective desks. "I should go get some work done, too, before First Lieutenant Hawkeye gets back." He smiled at the two men and the canine before heading out to find his co-workers.

"I guess I'll just leave Lieutenant Havoc's coffee on his desk," Fuery mused. Slowly he made his way across the rough green carpet that covered the office floor and set the chipped ceramic mug down on Havoc's desk. He sighed, moving back to put his own chair in place before taking a sip of his tea.

"If you want to go home, Master Sergeant Fuery," Roy said, bending down to pick Hayate up, "I can take care of the dog until First Lieutenant Hawkeye gets back."

"Oh … Ah … Erm…" was all Fuery could manage to say. His eyes moved back and forth across the room as his mind searched wildly for some excuse to stay with the pup.

Roy smirked. "Don't worry. I promise I won't do anything to affect the dog's loyalty."

"Well…"

"Nor will I attempt to train him to sign my paperwork for me."

Fuery sighed again. "If you're sure, Colonel …"

"It's not a problem."

"Thank you, then." He put away the few remaining papers on his desk and turned to go. He looked back toward Black Hayate and the man in whose lap the dog was currently curled. "Colonel, why are you here so late anyway? Your shift ended two hours ago, with mine, and you're usually rushing out the door as soon as it's time to quit."

Roy shrugged, keeping his attention on the ball of fur lying on his thighs. He didn't raise his head to look at Fuery. "I had nothing better to do tonight, so I thought I'd put in some overtime." In retrospect, he realized this probably wasn't the best thing he could have said, since no one, including himself, could remember the last time Roy Mustang had put in overtime, but Fuery merely stared at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and exiting the office. Truth be told, Roy wasn't sure why he was still here. He simply didn't feel right about leaving before Riza returned.

Black Hayate raised his head and barked when he realized that the hand on his back had stopped moving. Roy smiled and resumed petting the dog. "Few people would think you're as spoiled as you are with Riza for an owner, you know that?" he asked the pup. "Especially if they'd been in the office the day she decided to take you in. I don't think I've ever seen Fuery so scared. But she's got a soft spot for you, more than anyone else I've ever seen her with." Dejected, Roy mentally included himself in that category. While it was true that they had become close friends, Roy didn't think that Riza felt as much for him as he did for her. He still rejected the word love from his thoughts, though he had been doing it less and less since his discovery a few days ago. Hayate barked again, almost in a comforting, reassuring way, encouraging Roy to keep up his hopes.

As if cued by her dog's bark, Riza strode briskly into the office, but paused when she saw Roy still sitting at his desk. Hayate jumped from Roy's lap onto his desk and yipped happily at his mistress, tail wagging. Riza made no move toward the ecstatic puppy, but merely stared blankly at the man behind him. "I didn't expect you to still be here, Sir."

Roy simply shrugged in response to her unspoken question. He was tired of announcing his recent lack of a social life, outside coffee with Riza, of course, but that wasn't something he was prepared to let other people know about yet. "Since I am here, though, could I walk you home?"

"No, thank you, Sir. I still have a few things to pack before I go, and there's a car waiting for me anyway."

Immediately Roy noticed the cool edge to her voice, as well as her insistence on calling him 'sir,' even though they were alone in the office. He frowned, his brow furrowing, causing his eye patch to shift slightly. "Is everything alright, Riza?"

"Everything is fine, Sir. You can go home." She had stopped looking at him by now and walked over to her own desk. She reached down for a box that Roy hadn't noticed until now. She began opening drawers, pulling out the few personal items she kept at the office into the box, among them her favourite pen, which had been a gift from Roy after the King Bradley incident, and a spare leash for Black Hayate. When she began emptying her store of extra gun cartridges, Roy practically jumped from his chair and ran over to her, ignoring the dog at his heels.

"Why is there a box, Riza?" When he pretended not to hear him and continued moving the cartridges, he put his hands on her shoulders and spun her, forcing her to face him. He worked hard to suppress the fear and panic that was growing in his mind. "First Lieutenant Hawkeye, answer me!"

"The box, Sir," she replied, her voice even colder than before, anger shining in her gold-coloured eyes, "is for my personal belongings. Since I'm being transferred to Lior, I'll be needing them there with me. Now, if you'll unhand me, I need to go to the car so I can get to the station in time for my train."

Roy wasn't prepared to let her go yet, though. His mind reeled, trying to process what she had just said. She was being transferred. If this was true, why hadn't he been notified? What was the reason for the transfer? Why only Riza? Why hadn't _she_ told him? Finally he decided to speak, though his voice was somewhat strained. "When did you get the notice?"

"Two days ago. Sir, I need to catch my train, and there are still items at home to be picked up."

He had one more question for her. "Why didn't you argue the order?"

The anger was even more apparent in her eyes now. "I'm not in the habit of arguing your orders, Sir, and you yourself signed the transfer paper." His grasp on her shoulders loosened immediately, but she had turned away before the shock showed itself in his good eye. "Hayate, heel!" she commanded, picking up the box and heading for the door. The dog followed happily, not understanding what was going on. Riza paused for a moment in the doorway, but didn't turn her head. "Goodbye, Colonel."

Roy stared at the doorway after she left, his hands still warm from when he had grabbed her. He mentally cursed himself over and over, telling himself that if he had only done what she'd always asked of him, that he read the papers on his desk before he signed them, she wouldn't have just walked through that door for the last time. Almost robotically, his mind occupied, he pulled out the chair in front of him and slumped into it, placing his head in his hands on Riza's desk. As his mind worked madly about the situation, his thoughts running in a thousand different directions, he never once banished the word 'love' from his thoughts.

**A/N: **Have a cliché …or six or seven! I can't believe I just wrote all that. That last chapter was a masterpiece compared to this. I had absolutely zero inspiration for this chapter, but it had to be written. I hate plot. Plot screws everything up, don't you agree? There also seems to be a lot of shoulder action in this chapter… Everyone's shrugging and no one knows why! The next chapter will be better, I promise. I actually have ideas for that one, but I couldn't get to it until this one was done. Hopefully there weren't any grammatical errors or anything. I seem to be sleepwalking through life lately, so nothing really registers in my mind if I don't pick it up immediately.

That being said, I'm subtly starting to slip in things from the manga, as well as the novels. Speaking of which, if you haven't picked any of them up yet, DO SO NOW! I got the first one from my library last week, and you have no idea how helpful it is to your writing to actually read something in story format that is CANON (not that I don't love reading fics!). The first novel is The Other Brothers Elric (though that episode title's changed to something else now…but that's what I know it as, and you all know what I'm talking about), with the Warehouse 13 story as a bonus at the end. That last bit was awesome in my opinion, but then again, Episode 37 is my favourite, so I'm partial to anything relating to it. As far as manga goes, I've now read up to Volume 5, and I have this to say: WHERE HAS ALL THE CONSISTENCY GONE! What was once Lior is now Reole (um, ICK! Who the hell came up with _that_!), and Ishvar is now Ishbal (okay, so this was a change for the better, but I'd still prefer consistency).

And now, Aindel's question of the … well, I suppose the fortnight, since I seem to update every two weeks: Who exactly IS Mr. James Herbert? His name was on the letter that Mustang brought with him when he went to see the Elrics about their father (Episode 3, I believe). Aindel imagines Roy Mustang being a pseudonym for James Herbert, and then runs screaming at the thought Let me know your thoughts on the matter in your review!

In other news, I got my grades for first year today, and they're looking pretty good! Plus, my birthday is this Sunday (go legal drinking age in Canada! … even though I don't drink…), so this is shaping up to be a good week for me. Now if only I could get a job…

To my reviewers:

Anne Packrat – Thanks! I think the snarkiness comes from my own attitude (the 'S' in my name stands for 'Sarcasm,' one of my nicknames. I would string two scenes together, except that I never have more that one scene taking place on the same day, and it rubs me the wrong way to string two different days together. I'm weird that way (among other ways!)

Cles – I'm glad you liked it! Now if only I could convince myself that it was good …

Shadow Dreamer 27 – Great! Warm and fuzzy is exactly what I was going for!

PrincessLuckyCML – Thanks! And I'm probably going to keep my pattern of updating every two weeks.

flOofymikO – Thanks! Your review reminds me of a friend of mine, actually. And fluff makes me go SQUEEE too!

Loyalsoul – Thank you!

KTRose – Yes, I must. But fluff will return soon enough, I promise. I don't do angst. Or character death, but that's another story…

Brickwall847 – Uh….you know, I'm not sure that much sugar's good for you. But I will take some of that dough! Yay chocolate chip cookie dough! And you're right, it wasn't "me," except when it was, so I plan to fix that. Eventually. Maybe…

xTheDarkAngelx – I know! It's sad. But I hit him again in this one!

Mae-ta – Um….thank you….I think…

Ultimate Procrastinator – You're probably done your geography homework by now (if you're not, shame on you! Do your homework!), but hopefully this helps you to procrastinate with something else. Just don't forget to do it altogether. Because that's never good, and actually affects the mark that goes on your report card.

Until next time!

Aindel S. Druida

PS. Other random question: If the military ever did decide to get another dog (Riza said something about testing animal use in military endeavors), what do you think it would be named?


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Roy glanced out the window behind his desk, his eye moving to take in the vast amount of gray sky that covered the city. He sighed and turned his head back to his desk and the gargantuan piles of paperwork that resided on and around it. In the past two weeks, Roy had done almost no work in the office. He reported in for every shift on time, which shocked many military personnel, not to mention his own subordinates, and he always stayed until his shift was through, but would spend the hours in between those two points simply sitting at his desk. When he got home, he would wash, grab a few slices of bread to butter robotically before mindlessly devouring them, eating only because he knew he should, and then go to bed, waking in time to dress and head to work. Each morning he would pour himself a cup of coffee before heading to his desk, but couldn't even bring himself to drink it.

When the others heard the news, they had been shocked. However, they accepted the situation with grace, and assumed that the Colonel would do the same. Days later, with Roy looking even worse each time any of them saw him, they realized they had been wrong. When Havoc, who had taken on Riza's duties with Breda, had jokingly told him that he looked like himself after being dumped and ignored by one of his girlfriends, Roy had set the edges of Havoc's coat aflame. After that, they avoided him for the most part, speaking to him only when they had to, acknowledging his presence only with a quick salute. They were quickly reaching the limits of their patience, though, wishing Roy would go back to being himself.

Distantly, Roy heard the bell ring for lunch hour, though he made no move toward the door. Breda and Falman practically ran from the room, eager to escape the gloomy environment the office had become. Fuery followed them, albeit slowly and less desperately, but Havoc stayed behind. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he walked up to Roy's desk, leaning over the piles to look at his commanding officer.

"Colonel." When he received no reply, he tried again, more forcefully. "Colonel!"

Roy sighed. "What is it?" he asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

"Lunch. Let's go."

"I'm not going."

"Colonel, you haven't eaten at all since First Lieutenant Hawkeye left." He noticed the man tense slightly at the name, but when nothing else happened, he continued. "We're all worried about you. You're not doing well."

"That's not true, Second Lieutenant Havoc," Roy replied, still staring blankly at his desk. "I eat when I get home from work, and I am perfectly healthy."

Havoc's response to that was a disbelieving snort. He moved the piles of paper between Roy and himself, having to take several steps away from the desk before finding free space on the floor for them, and pulled the nearest chair up to sit across from Roy. "Talk, Colonel."

"What?"

"I know you, and I know this kind of behaviour isn't like you. So we're going to talk about your problem and find a way to fix it."

"I don't have a problem, Havoc. Go to lunch." Roy was starting to sound annoyed. It was a good sign to Havoc, though, since the man had been nothing but melancholy for the past fourteen days.

"I'm not leaving until you talk."

Roy sighed. There was a part of him that wanted to open up to Havoc, tell him everything, see if the man could help him. He had done this very rarely in the past, and only ever with Hughes. Usually his stubborn, prideful side won out, leaving him alone to either deal with his problem or wait until it went away. He had opened up to Riza, but that had been different; his pride hadn't mattered at all with her. His eye flicked over the man sitting across from him, noting the stubborn gleam mixed with sympathy in Havoc's eyes. He sighed again, giving in to Havoc and to the softer side of himself. "Hawkeye's gone."

Havoc tried very hard not to roll his eyes at the obviousness of the Colonel's statement. He didn't want Roy to lock up again just as he was beginning to open. "Yeah, Sir, I know. We all miss her."

Roy shook his head and smiled, but there was no humour in the upward turn of his lips. "It's not just that."

Taking one last long drag, havoc reached over for his ashtray and put out his cigarette. For the first time in a long time, he did not replace it with another. For a while, a suspicion had been gnawing somewhere in his mind. He had never voiced it to anyone, for fear of bullets and fire rushing at him. Now, he decided, he was prepared to die, if it meant helping to get the Colonel back on his feet. He took a deep breath. "She's … not just a subordinate to you, is she?"

Closing his eye and leaning back in his chair, Roy shook his head again. Suspicion confirmed and happy to find that he hadn't been burned in the process, Havoc waited for Roy to continue, to explain himself more fully. "It's not that we were dating or anything, really. We met at a coffee shop once by accident on a Sunday, and then it just became a habit to meet there. In the beginning, it wasn't much different than going out for a drink with the rest of you, except a lot less rowdy. But then … I don't know what happened. Something changed, and I …" Havoc nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. He jerked back quickly, though, as Roy banged his fists down on the wood in a sudden burst of anger. "I hate this, Havoc! Why does this have to be so damned complicated? I barely even had a chance to realize how I felt, and now she's gone!" His anger left him as quickly as it had come and he slumped back into his chair, defeated, his head in his hands. "Not to mention it's my fault she's gone and she hates me for it."

Now Havoc was thoroughly confused. "What do you mean, Colonel? It was a transfer. How could it be your …" He trailed off, realization dawning on him.

"I signed the order. I never even bothered to read what it was. She thought the order came from me." Despair and helplessness were apparent in his voice now.

"So she thinks you ordered her transfer because you didn't want her here?" Roy nodded into his hands, feeling the beginnings of a headache manifest across his skull. "Then the solution is simple: you have to get the transfer revoked."

Ignoring the increased pain from moving his head too quickly, Roy stared at his Second Lieutenant as though he had grown a second head. "And how am I supposed to do that? Fill in a form so it reads 'Requesting return transfer of First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye because I'm in love with her'?"

"No. Go higher up. Make them understand, and get them to issue the order."

The look, if possible, intensified on Roy's face. "As it is, fraternizing is deeply frowned upon. Do you really think it likely that they would even consider my request, let alone allow me to keep my job?"

Havoc shrugged. "I don't know, Colonel. But she's worth it, isn't she, to try?"

Roy sighed once again and rubbed his face with his hand. He knew the answer immediately, but before he could say anything more to Havoc, his other subordinates returned. They stopped just inside the doorway, Breda standing a considerable distance from Fuery and Falman, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. Fuery's hands were hiding something behind his back.

"Um … er …" Fuery sputtered, obviously nervous about whatever he had to say. "I … that is, we … We noticed you've been feeling down, Colonel, and we wanted to cheer you up, but we couldn't think of anything, especially after you burned Havoc for his attempts, and …" He trailed off, leaving his ramble incomplete as he searched for the right words. "Um … We thought that you might be lonely, and since none of us could really talk to you, we um … We got you this!" He said the last part very quickly as he ran toward Roy's desk and deposited what he had been hiding onto the wood.

Roy stared. Staring back at him were a pair of brown-black eyes. He looked away from the eyes, taking in the dark, wet nose, the floppy ears, the tail swishing back and forth, and the chocolate brown fur that covered it all. "You got me a dog?" he asked, not quite believing what he was seeing. Fuery gulped and nodded, suddenly fearing for the pup's life as Roy picked it up by the scruff of its neck and brought it closer to his good eye for inspection. The puppy yipped and brought its long pink tongue out to lick Roy's cheek.

"Well, it that's the case," Roy said, setting the dog back down on the desk and moving his left hand to scratch behind its ears, "I suppose I have no choice." He looked at his four men: Havoc, who had forced him to come out of his shell of self-hatred and despair, Fuery and Falman, who had tried to come up with their own form of comfort and support, and Breda, who was fighting his fear of dogs and showing his support by actually staying in the room. "Thank you, all of you," he continued, with a pointed look at Havoc. They nodded, smiling at him, and returned to their desks and their work.

"Oh, Colonel," Fuery called out, "what are you going to name him?"

Roy thought for a moment, studying the dog carefully. "Dakota," he stated. He looked to Fuery to approval, which the Master Sergeant gave readily. Roy's attention returned to his desk as he began to shift the papers on it, searching for his telephone. When he found it, he hesitated for a moment. He had to be absolutely sure of what he was about to start. As if sensing a disruption in his new master's thoughts, much as Black Hayate had done, Dakota yipped and messily licked Roy's hand. He didn't spare a second thought for the temporarily useless glove as he took a deep breath and dialed an internal number.

When someone on the opposite end picked up, he mentally steeled himself. "This is Colonel Roy Mustang. I require General Hakuro's home address." The voice on the other end was hesitant, but gave him the information. Roy scribbled the address across the paper in front of him, not caring what it contained, before thanking the person and hanging the telephone up. He nodded at Havoc, wordlessly thanking the man again and confirming the action he was going to take.

For the rest of his shift, Roy began on the mountain of paperwork that was once his desk. He took the time to read each one carefully, making sure he understood exactly what he was signing. Only once did he take a break, when Dakota started to get antsy. Not having a leash and knowing the dog wouldn't have had any training, he scooped him up and carried him out to the green, earning him more than a few odd looks along the way. He let the dog do his business and wear off some energy as he stared up at the still-cloudy sky. For the umpteenth time since Havoc had made his suggestion, Roy weighed Riza against his job. He didn't think it likely that he would still be employed after tonight, so was it worth his job only to find out that things might not work out? He felt, though, that he would regret his inaction for the rest of his life if he didn't fight, didn't go after her, didn't tell her that he loved her. Roy felt a few light waterdrops fall onto his face as it began to rain. He called out to Dakota, who came running, barking at the raindrops and wagging his tail playfully. He took the dog in his arms again and walked back into the building to finish his work.

The remainder of the day passed by uneventfully, each of the men doing their own work. When the time came to quit, Roy gathered up his coat and his dog, bidding the others a good night. He stopped on his way home for dog supplies, purchasing two plain metal bowls, a leash, and some dog food. Trying to control Dakota on his leash was nothing short of impossible. The pup ran every which way, weaving through people and jumping at cars that passed. With his hands full, Roy could do nothing but pull gently on the leash to coax the dog along. Eventually they made it home, where Roy placed spare pieces of wood at the kitchen door so that Dakota could not escape. He decided that the dog would be staying in that room until he could be properly trained. He washed out both bowls before filling one with dog food and the other with water. Leaving Dakota to his meal, Roy set about making a real meal for himself, the first he'd had in a while. When he was finished, he rooted through the closet in the hallway, eventually emerging with a worn, thin blanket of an undeterminable colour somewhere between gray and pink. Making sure the dog was settled and would be fine alone for a while, he scratched under the dog's chin before stepping over the wood and picking up the telephone to call for a car. After he hung up, he went outside to wait, locking the door securely behind him.

A few minutes later, the black car pulled up in front of Roy's place. Climbing into the back seat, he gave the officer driving him the address. The young man nodded and pulled out into the street. Roy looked out the window, not really noticing the passing houses and shops. His mind was focused on General Hakuro, and how to persuade the man to see his point of view. Before he could come up with anything substantial, he realized that the car was slowing down and pulling onto the side of the road.

"We're here, Sir," the driver said to him, looking at Roy in the rearview mirror. Roy merely nodded and opened the door. "Do you need me to wait for you, Sir?"

He shook his head at the officer. "No, thank you. I have no idea how long I'm going to be." He closed the door and the car pulled away, leaving Roy to stand nervously on the grass near the road. The house in front of him was larger than average, but not nearly as big as King Bradley's had been. It was two levels of light brown brick walls, with dark roofing on top. The front door and shutters were pained white, as was the iron fence surrounding the large property. He walked up to the two guards positioned at the front, who saluted him when they saw the badge of rank on his uniform, but did not move to let him pass. He stopped in front of them, nodding for them to stand at ease. "Colonel Roy Mustang to see General Hakuro on private business."

The guard on the left turned and walked toward the house while the one on the right replied, "Please wait a moment, Sir." Roy was glad the rain had let up so that he wasn't soaked while he waited, feeling more and more anxious with each second that passed. The other guard returned, and Roy was allowed to pass. "The officer inside will escort you to General Hakuro's study, Sir." He thanked them and walked forward, ignoring the jelly-like feeling his legs had acquired. Inside, his coat was hung on a stand and he was led out of the brightly lit, beige foyer and down the hall. Halfway down the hall, the female officer he had been following stopped and gestured toward the door on their right. "The General will receive you in here, Sir," she told him, saluting before walking back to the front door. Roy turned the knob, his hand trembling slightly, and walked into the room, closing the door again behind him. As he saluted, he took in his surroundings.

Hakuro's study was an average-sized room. Across from the door were two large windows, the long green curtains drawn across for increased privacy. The right side of the room was overtaken with bookshelves, though Roy couldn't make out any titles in the room's dim lighting. The left side was rather bare in comparison, with only a large desk and chair made of the same smooth, polished wood as the bookshelves, and a green lamp in either corner providing the only light in the room. General Hakuro was seated at the desk, pen in hand and a small stack of papers in front of him. He motioned for Roy to stand at ease, and he did so, moving to stand closer to Hakuro's desk.

"Well, Colonel Mustang," he began, setting his pen down and folding his hands on top of his desk, "I'm surprised by this visit. What is it you wish to discuss?"

Roy hesitated a moment. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Granted," Hakuro replied, his furrowed brow indicating his slight confusion at Roy's behaviour.

"I need my First Lieutenant back," he rushed.

"You have two Second Lieutenants serving under you. Surely you can't have become so short-staffed in only two weeks? If you'd like, I can have the matter reviewed and ensure that someone is assigned to you."

Roy shook his head. "It's not a matter of staff, Sir. My current staff is fine."

"Then what is this about? Your staff is fine, and Lior isn't. We needed someone with excellent military records and good people skills to help the efforts there, and First Lieutenant Hawkeye seemed best for the job. Is there a reason she shouldn't have been considered?"

"No, Sir, there isn't."

"Well, then?" Hakuro questioned, eyebrows raised.

Taking a deep breath, Roy spoke the words that he was sure were going to cost him his job. "I need her back, Sir, because she means a lot to me personally."

Hakuro stared at him for a moment. "Request denied, Colonel. Good evening," he said finally, picking up his pen to resume his work.

Roy, however, did not leave. He looked at Hakuro, ready to argue with the General as long as needed. "Why?" he challenged. "There are many other officers just as suited to the job as she is, so why can't the transfer be revoked?"

"I have already told you, Colonel," Hakuro replied, irritation obvious in his voice, "that First Lieutenant Hawkeye was the best candidate. If you leave now, I will overlook this fraternizing transgression, which you know very well the military does not condone."

"Right now, Sir, I couldn't care less. I've always questioned the validity of that rule, anyway."

"That rule," responded Hakuro, both his eyes focusing directly on Roy's good one, "is in place to keep our officers from being distracted from their work."

Roy breathed, trying to keep a level head, for once thankful that his gloves were too damp to use. He focused his mind, attempting to form logical arguments from his emotions. "And you don't think, Sir, that it's distracting to love someone you can't have, or to be separated from that person by an order? You're creating more of a distraction by having that rule in place, not to mention preventing population growth. We've lost a lot of people in the last few years, and those lives are not going to be made up for by denying some people who love each other the chance to be together or create new life."

When he finally paused, Hakuro sighed and moved his hands up to rub his temples. "Are you finished, Colonel?"

"Not quite, Sir. I am going to assume that your marriage was one made freely, and not arranged or political."

"Yes, it was."

"Well, Sir, imagine if your wife had been in the military as well. You would not be sharing this house with her today, now would those two children," he gestured towards the picture on Hakuro's desk, "whom I'm sure you love, even exist. You would be as I am now, Sir. Barely able to concentrate on work, eating practically nothing, all of your thoughts focused on her."

Hakuro sighed again and looked at Roy tiredly. "You have made your point, Colonel. I will consider what you've said. You are dismissed."

Roy saluted General Hakuro and walked out of the room. He retrieved his coat in the foyer and exited the house. His mind whirled as he began the walk home. Had he made sense? Had he gotten through to the General? Would he be informed tomorrow morning that he was fired? Roy could understand nothing about Hakuro's thoughts, or the action he would take. Whether he'd won or lost puzzled him the whole way home, a destination he hadn't even realized he'd reached until he put his hand in his pocket for his key. He could hear Dakota inside, barking at the sound of someone about to enter.

Opening the door and stepping inside, he could see a fuzzy brown head poking above the wood blocking the kitchen door, yipping happily. Roy smiled, the first time in two weeks, and walked into the kitchen. When he was sure that the dog hadn't made a mess anywhere while he was gone, he scooped him up and ruffled his fur. Stepping over the wood, he carried Dakota over to the couch, setting the dog in his lap. Roy leaned back and took off his eye patch, closing both eyelids in a gesture of obvious exhaustion. He was almost asleep, following the example of the puppy resting on his legs, when his telephone rang. Groggily, he set the now wide awake Dakota back in the kitchen before picking up the receiver.

"Colonel Mustang?" General Hakuro's voice said on the other end of the line.

"Yes, Sir?"

"It has become clear to me that you are unable to continue productively in work without the presence of First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye."

"Sir?" Roy asked, confused even more by Hakuro's words.

"Therefore," Hakuro continued, "it is also clear that said Lieutenant must return to your unit. I expect you to see to the matter personally. Your subordinates will be advised of your absence. Your train leaves in an hour."

Hakuro hung up after that, but Roy still held the receiver in his hand, staring at it with a dumbfounded expression. His mind slowly processed what he had just heard. Hakuro was retracting Riza's transfer order. Essentially, he was giving approval of their possible relationship. His train left in an hour.

"Damn!" Roy exclaimed as the last point hit him. He slammed the receiver down and ran to his bedroom. He dug out the dusty black bag from underneath the bed and began throwing clothes into it, hoping that he wouldn't forget anything in his mad rush. Carrying the bag into the kitchen, he dropped it onto the table before rushing back out of the room, stumbling slightly as he leapt over the wood. He called for a car, managing to get his address out between gasps for air. He slammed the receiver down again and hurried back into the kitchen. Dakota, who had been watching his master scramble about with amusement, suddenly found himself off the ground, tucked under Roy's left arm. Roy, struggling to keep hold of the pup, filled a bag with some dog food and threw it into his bag, along with Dakota's leash. Shoving his coat between the handles on the bag, he closed the door and locked it. Haphazardly replacing his eye patch and putting on his hat, he ran to the car and ordered it to the train station as fast as the scared young driver could manage.

**A/N:** And thus dies canon, out a window and into heavy traffic. Maybe it wasn't as OOC as I think it is, but I think it's fairly OOC. Especially the first bit.

I've finally been told that my author's notes are too long, so I'm going to keep this as short as I possibly can. If you'd like to talk about it more with me, or the weather, or anything else, feel free to PM, e-mail, or add me to MSN. Whatever works.

So, I've added another dog. The name comes from a historic aircraft, the same place as many of the other military names in FMA (I did my research!). I'm not sure why, but I felt the dog was needed.

I realize that Roy probably wouldn't have won his case simply with an argument like that in real life, but if this were real life, this would be a newspaper article, not fan fiction.

Next chapter is the last. It's sad, to think that I'm almost done. This has been my baby for a while.

Thank you to:

Your Excellency – Uh… sorry, but I like Dakota better. : P

Brickwall847 – Driving us to asylums is an understatement. Besides, I'm already there! And yeah, gotta love Russel and Fletcher. Especially Fletcher. He's just too damn cute! And don't worry about the plot. See, it gets better!

Sull89 – Well, I figured it shouldn't be all sunshine and happiness for him if he does work like that. Silly Roy!

Dailenna – Yeah, sorry 'bout those. I have a tendency to ramble. Shrug It's somewhere in my star sign. Glad you like it, though!

YourViolentStalker – You're back! Yay! And yeah, I know it was evil. As for the James Herbert thing: When Trisha Elric got sick, the boys wrote letters to people they knew their dad knew, hoping someone knew where he was so that he would come home. When Roy showed up at Rockbell's, he held up a letter with the name "James Herbert" on it.

elena – Thanks! Yeah, Roy's kinda stupid that way.

Shadow Dreamer 27 – I had planned for the plot to come in a lot sooner, but then I thought "Wait a sec… they need to get closer before I can tragically rip them apart," so I played barbies with them a little longer than anticipated.

Koa-chan – Stupid Roy indeed!

XBrOkEnXBuTXdEaDlYX – Don't worry, you're not alone. I was like that about fluff, too. Not asking about the monkey thing.

PrincessLuckyCML – Yeah, she got the notice two days after the park.

Horsehearted15 – Thanks!

Carpathian Rose – Hopefully this isn't considered "too long"!

KTRose – Of course we're not saying goodbye to her forever! I'm too much of a fluff addict for that. I also have to question the possible colour-blindness of the general public for deciding on chocolate-y brown. It's not like gold is that weird of a colour in that series or anything. Ed's are like that. But yeah, nothing big. Probably not likely to change that.

Cles – Happy belated birthday to you! 14… I vaguely remember being 14. And yeah, Riza was abrupt, but she wouldn't have questioned an order from Roy. She follows him unconditionally, no matter what he tells her (otherwise, he probably would have gotten an earful YEARS ago).

xTheDarkAngelx – I know it was only a card. And he didn't get anything this time because he was uber-depressed. Hitting him just would have been cruel.

Until next time!

Aindel S. Druida


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Roy woke with a start, feeling a sharp pain in the back of his head. His eye darted back and forth before settling on the tall, scrawny man shuffling down the aisle between the seats, all the while fumbling with an overly large suitcase. Shaking away the pain, Roy laid his head back against the seat and closed his eye. He felt a stir under his right hand that let him know Dakota had been woken with Roy's start. Gently stroking the fur on the puppy's back, Roy coaxed him back into content slumber. The Flame Alchemist sighed, the feeling that he'd been on this train for years once again settling in his mind. He knew it had only been a few hours, but he was anxious to reach Lior, where he knew Riza would be.

He wasn't sure yet what he would say or do. Various scenarios played through his head. In some, he walked straight up to her and professed his undying love, after which she would burst into tears and fall into his embrace. In others, he barely got two words in before his body was riddled with bullets, after which he used his last breath to profess his undying love but did not live to see her reaction. The former, he noted, was favourable, but highly unlikely considering the First Lieutenant's personality; for the latter, the opposite was true. Giving up and deciding to leave events to the power of improvisation, Roy settled down to sleep away the last leg of the journey.

Soon enough, the train had pulled up to Lior's station. Roy grabbed his dog and his bag, practically running off the car and onto the platform. As soon as he exited the station, he got the attention of a local grocer who was in the midst of rearranging cabbages in front of his shop.

"Excuse me, sir … Could you … direct me … to the … military offices?" he managed to ask as he caught his breath from the run. He let Dakota down, making sure to hold tightly to the leash. The man was happy to oblige, gesturing quickly with one tanned hand as he communicated the quickest route. Roy thanked the man and continued running, pulling Dakota away from the barrel of apples he had been sniffing.

Within minutes, Roy and Dakota stood in front of Lior Headquarters. After the skirmish that had resulted in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, military command had deemed it necessary for the city to have its own Headquarters, rather than being under the jurisdiction of East Headquarters. For the most part, it was merely a precaution against any possible rebellions. The men and women stationed in the city spent much of their on-duty time with relief efforts, reconstruction, and policing. Roy sighed, squared his shoulders, and walked towards the building.

The Flame Alchemist winced as the brilliance of the whitewashed walls invaded his eye. It was a shocking change from the streets, which were quite dusty from the blowing sands. The woman sitting at the front desk, the only bit of furniture in the front hallway, stood and saluted him. "Welcome, Sir," she chirped happily, her messy brown hair and glasses instantly reminding him of the bookworm, Sheska. He nodded, and she resumed her place on the hard wooden chair.

"I'd like to know where I can find First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye." Roy reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a paper he had been issued with his train ticket. Handing it to the woman, he added, "This is for the commanding officer here,"

"Of course, Sir. You'll find First Lieutenant Hawkeye in the last room on the left if you take the hallway to your right." She smiled at him in a friendly manner. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Roy hesitated a moment, wondering if it would be too much to ask the woman for such a favour. Finally, he decided it needed to be done. "If it isn't too much," he began, giving her his most charming smile, "would you mind keeping my dog and bag here while I speak with the First Lieutenant?"

Her eyes lit up as she noticed Dakota for the first time, making Roy think of a female version of Master Sergeant Fuery more than Sheska. "A puppy! How sweet! Of course I don't mind, Sir. You know, I sometimes watch over First Lieutenant Hawkeye's dog when she needs me to."

"Thank you. I'll only be a minute or two, most likely." AS an afterthought, he turned and added, "His name is Dakota," before steeling himself for Riza's reaction to his visit.

The hallway grew shorter and shorter, and Roy's steps grew slower and slower as he neared the door. In his mind, the scenario he had imagined on the train, the one featuring a bullet-heavy body, played over and over. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, not even for all the mini-skirt-clad women in the world, but he was afraid of Riza's anger as much as he was her seemingly likely rejection of him. He reasoned with himself that, even if she didn't love him in return, it would be enough if she resumed her post working with him. It would mean that she had at least forgiven him, something that would never happen if she was too angry with him.

Roy paused a few steps away from the door, staying close to the right side of the hallway so that he couldn't be seen. Listening intently, he tried to gauge how many people currently occupied the room. After a few minutes of listening, Roy had only heard one set of footsteps and the occasional rustling of papers. He breathed deep, trying to calm his racing heart and rein in his somewhat overactive imagination, and took the last few steps into the office.

He was forced to exhale rapidly as huge arms wrapped around him, lifting him off the ground and nearly snapping his spine. Fighting for breath, his feet returned to solid ground as the hulking figure in front of him moved back and saluted him. "Colonel Roy Mustang!" the booming voice of Major Alex Louis Armstrong shouted. "How wonderful to see you! Of course, the General telephoned me to inform me of the nature of your visit. Such a tragic story! To realize how important a person is, only to lose them to a faraway place!"

"So the military has nothing better to do that to gossip like old women?" Roy asked, frowning.

"The General felt it necessary to inform me, given the circumstances. Ah, so romantic!" Armstrong was sparkling with emotion, a state that made Roy anxious to leave the company of the Major.

"Then you understand, Major Armstrong, that I'd like to see First Lieutenant Hawkeye as soon as possible."

"Of course! I will retrieve her immediately! Please wait here a moment." Saluting Roy once again, Armstrong left the room, leaving the Flame Alchemist standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor. Turning to his right, he saw a group of six desks similar to those at his own office. He knew instantly which desk belonged to Riza because it was the only one that was completely devoid of any signs that someone sat there. Roy found himself walking toward the desk, the fingers on his left hand tracing the wood lightly.

"Did you need something from my desk, Colonel?" came the hard, calculating female voice from the doorway, causing Roy to spin around rapidly to face her. "Have you lost all your pens in your piles of unfinished paperwork, that you need to come to Lior to borrow one from me? Or perhaps you've simply brought that paperwork with you in the hopes that I would still finish it for you?"

It took Roy a few minutes to even process what she'd said. The only thought running through his mind was that Riza was standing in front of him, she was beautiful, and he had never been happier to see her. When her words finally reached him, he jerked back, hurt by what they implied. "Is that how you feel? You think that that's what I think about you?"

"Sir, you had me transferred without warning or explanation after years of working together. I cannot help feeling that you don't think very highly of me. Now, will you please tell me why you're here to see me? I have work to do, and I prefer not to put it off." There was an angry edge to her voice now.

"I will, but I would prefer that we didn't have that discussion here," Roy replied, his courage building at the fact that she hadn't shot at him yet, though he could see that her hand was dangerously close to her firearms. "Is there anywhere nearby where we could get a decent cup of coffee?"

Shock joined the anger on Riza's face. "Sir, I have work to do. I cannot just leave for a cup of coffee while I am on duty!"

"I think you'll find you can, Riza," Roy stated, walking toward her and wrapping his hand around the wrist that was straying ever closer to her gun. He pulled gently on her arm, persuading her to follow him back down the hall. "But I will explain all that after we get some coffee. I've barely slept, my nerves are shot, and I'd rather not botch this up if I can help it."

He could feel her resisting his pull, so he stopped and turned back to face her, but did not relinquish his hold on her wrist. He could see in her eyes the battle going on in her mind and waited patiently but nervously for the outcome. Finally, she took a step forward, though her face showed no change in emotion. "Fine. We'll go, and I'll listen to what you have to say. Anything more than that I cannot guarantee, Colonel."

Smiling on the inside, hope building in his chest, Roy nodded. "Thank you, Riza." He refused to revert to using her rank or surname. "Now, we simply have to pick up my things from your secretary and then we can talk."

He led the way back down the hall to where the woman at the front entrance sat. Getting closer, he could see that she had Dakota sitting in her lap, wagging his tail contentedly as she pet him with one hand and attempted to work using the other. Hearing them approach, Dakota jumped from the secretary's lap and began to yip excitedly at his master and the woman with him. Roy smiled, scooping up the dog and his bag, and thanked the secretary once more.

"Oh, it was no trouble at all, Sir," she piped, saluting him. "He's an excellent puppy, very well-behaved."

Looking behind him, Roy was amused to see Riza staring, speechless. He reached back for her arm again, and pulled her out of the building and into the sunlight. Clearly over her initial shock, she raised an eyebrow at him when she knew he was looking. "You have a dog, Sir?"

"Yes, and he will be explained along with everything else. Now, which was to the coffee shop?"

Riza gave a quick, "This way," before walking across the street, leaving Roy to follow behind. He kept Dakota in his arms, not wanting to have to watch the dog and have an ounce of attention leave the back of the blonde, uniform-clad woman ahead of him. She stopped some minutes later in front of a small building on a street corner and turned to face him. "This is it," she said before entering the shop. When Roy caught up to her, she was already giving their orders to an elderly man standing behind a long countertop and requesting a table outside. This puzzled Roy, as the shop hadn't had a front patio, and he doubted that there was any substantial property in the back, but he followed Riza and the man unquestioningly when they moved away, the man carrying a tray with their drinks.

They were led to the back of the shop, where the ascended a narrow set of wooden stairs. Roy had some difficulty with this, as he was still carrying his bag and Dakota, but pressed onward anyway. They emerged from the staircase onto the roof of the shop, and Roy was taken aback by the beauty of it. The owners had taken the time to plant grass on the roof so that a few small wooden tables and chairs sat on soft, well-kept turf. Planters and pts had been set around to add some colour, the vibrant flowers giving the place a very personal touch. The elderly man set the tray on one of the tables, all of which were unoccupied, and told them to call for him if they required anything else as he made his way back indoors. Roy set Dakota down and tied his leash to the chair, as he had seen Riza do with Black Hayate many times, before he sat down across from the First Lieutenant, who had already set their drinks out.

"Well," she began, "are you going to tell me why you're here, Colonel?"

"I'm here to tell you that you're being transferred again," he said lightly.

"I see," Riza replied tersely. "And why have you come to deliver this information? Did you put in another request? Was I not transferred far enough away the first time?"

Roy was amazed. He had never seen Riza Hawkeye so raw and bare with her emotions before. Certainly he had seen her angry before, but even that had been calculated, controlled anger. When something had been bothering her, she became distant and aloof until the problem went away, much like she had acted when she'd left the office the night she was transferred. Now, Roy thought, she seemed almost like an ordinary woman who'd been rejected by the man she loved. Roy tried not to think too much about the possibility that she loved him back, as it would only distract him from his own confession. He realized that he hadn't yet responded to her questions and blinked, his eye patch shifting slightly, as he snapped back to reality.

"No, Riza," he stated, his voice low and gentle. "That is far from the truth. I didn't even want you transferred in the first place." Surprised, she looked into his eye, but stayed silent so that he could continue. "I was signing paperwork without reading it, and unfortunately, the transfer order was in the pile that I signed. I knew nothing about the order until you came in that night to collect your things."

"And this new transfer order that you mentioned? I'm not even under your jurisdiction anymore, so why are you giving notification, in person no less?" There was still anger in her voice, but it had been lessened considerably by the confusion that was now apparent.

"The order is for you to return to me, in Central. General Hakuro approved the reassignment at my request." Not leaving her any time to question this, Roy took a deep breath and launched into a recounting of the events that had taken place after she had left. He told her how for two weeks he'd been unable to work, sitting at his desk, depressed and useless. He told her how Havoc had encouraged him to try to get her back, and he relayed almost word for word his confrontation with Hakuro, leading up to his last-minute train ride and surprise visit. He watched her carefully as he spoke, noticing as she gained control of her emotions. She was still confused, but her anger had almost completely disappeared, showing that she was understanding his deep guilt and regret. When he paused to let her speak, she thought for a moment before opening her mouth.

"Why, though? Why would you go through all that to have me reassigned, Roy?"

Hearing her use his first name again gave him a feeling of unsurpassable joy, and he knew for certain how he would answer her. "Because," he began, looking straight into her eyes with complete seriousness, "I realized something when you left. I realized that without you at the office, I didn't feel like I had any reason to work. And then I realized, when I couldn't meet you for coffee, that without you around, I didn't feel like I had any reason to exist. I love you, Riza. I'm just sorry that I didn't realize it sooner, and that it took hurting you and losing you for me to figure it out."

Shock was written all over Riza's face as he confessed his feelings. "I've loved you for a long time, Roy," she replied finally, smiling almost shyly at him. "When we met for coffee, a part of me hoped that something was finally going to happen. I kept my distance somewhat, though, because the rational part of me didn't think it was worth either of us losing our jobs over."

"Well, we've as good as got the General's permission, so I'd say that's not a problem anymore," he said with his usual self-satisfied smirk. "Will you come back with me, then, and see where life takes us from there?"

Riza stood up, smiling, and walked around the table to where Roy sat. "If you actually need me to answer that question," she retorted, leaning towards him, "then you weren't listening to what I said."

Without warning, Roy closed the small gap she had left between them. Wrapping his left arm around her waist and placing his right hand behind her head, he pulled Riza into his lap, deepening the kiss. The broke apart reluctantly when they needed oxygen, though their eyes never left each other. "Perhaps we should collect your things so we can go home?" Roy asked, his voice husky.

Riza nodded, slowly removing herself from Roy's lap. "It won't take very long," she said, tucking a few hairs that had come loose behind her ear. "Everything is still in boxes and bags, except for the things Hayate and I absolutely needed."

"You've been here two weeks and you haven't unpacked anything?"

"Unpacking signifies settling in for something long term," she said matter-of-factly as Roy dug into his pocket and placed a few coins on the drink tray, "and I don't think I wanted to accept that yet." Roy smiled at her as he untied Dakota's leash, slung his bag over his shoulder, and reached for her hand. "Why do you have that bag, anyway?" she asked, curiosity setting in.

"In case I needed to stay here for a while before you agreed to come back with me. I wasn't going to leave here without you."

"And the dog? You didn't explain that part, Roy."

"Fuery and Falman's idea of comfort," he shrugged. "He grew on me. I named him Dakota."

"He's sweet," she said, reaching down to scratch under the puppy's chin. "If he doesn't get along with Hayate, though, he stays outside. I will not listen to dogs fighting all day and night."

Roy stared at her, surprised by what her words implied. She laughed at his expression and stood to kiss him again. Roy couldn't have cared then if she had declared point-blank that she wanted to move to Ishbal and convert to the Ishbalan religion, because he knew that he loved her and that she loved him, and that he would fulfill her every wish so long as she was his.

END

**A/N:** Well, there you have it. The end. And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a shower to get rid of the _sap_ that has invaded every square inch of me. That has to be the single most nauseatingly sweet thing I have ever written in my life.

I apologize for the long wait for this. You wouldn't believe how much trouble this last chapter gave me. I don't know if it was just writer's block, or if subconsciously I didn't want to end this story, or whatever, but to give you an idea, consider this: Every chapter you have seen thus far was written in three hours or less. This last chapter took me a week. The only things I had planned on ahead of time were the whack with the suitcase at the beginning, and the line about unpacking (it's amazing, the things you can think of while you're _trying_ to sleep).

So now, all I have to do is go back and revamp some of those chapters. Just some general editing, fixing typos and awkward sentences (have you ever noticed how awkward the word 'awkward' is?), and changing a few minor things that bother me. And I'll probably take out a lot of the rambles on my notes.

Thanks to all of my reviewers and silent readers, especially those of you who have stuck with me since the beginning. Without you, I probably would have abandoned this story about three chapters ago. Check with my bio every now and again for new stuff by me! Next up is a Draco/Hermione for the Harry Potter fandom (because my best friend isn't into anime that much, and has been bothering me for a long time for something that she can actually read!), and after that, I'm not sure. If you have any story prompts or the like, feel free to drop me a line. It's hard to come up with everything all on your own!

Much love to you all,

Aindel S. Druida

PS. I would really appreciate it if you could leave in your review what you thought was the best part of this fic (an actual event, or an aspect, like characterization or whatever), and something that you feel is in dire need of fixing (except my typing. Please don't mention that one. I know it sucks, and there's nothing I can do about it).


End file.
